


The Return of the Voyager and the Emissary from Afar

by Huskarl



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, Alliance-Union - C. J. Cherryh, Forty Thousand in Gehenna, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Game of Thrones Fusion, Book: Cyteen, Canon Friendly, Gen, Post - Game of Thrones (TV)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-30
Updated: 2021-02-03
Packaged: 2021-03-16 13:34:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29083236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Huskarl/pseuds/Huskarl
Summary: Four years into her voyage and Arya Stark finds it's time to start thinking about returning home only to find she and her crew won't be returning alone.  (A work in progress)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 2





	1. Chapter 1

It was their fifth day in this new port of Valen when they had finally concluded the business of off-loading their cargo of wine and spices and dealt with both the port customs and shipment’s receiver and been paid. With the fee collected, the crew paid and liberty schedules and port watches set, Arya could now get down to the important work of looking to the restocking of stores and conducting the repairs she knew the Nymeria was in need of before they set out again.

They had been gone now for four years and the wear on the ship was as telling as that on the crew. She knew that the time to return was approaching.

With the assistance of the harbor master Arya and the ship’s master Tilton had been visiting the various ship chandlers in the harbor area to see what was available and at what price all day. The first deliveries had arrived just after they had returned; coils of rope and rolls of canvas. The timber, pitch and fittings would be delivered later in the week. The sticking part of the needed refit was the pulling of the ship out of the water to careen the hull.

From the harbor master they had learned of mud flats where they could do the work themselves, but the tides weren’t going to be favorable for nearly a moon, and though the ship yard was more than capable of doing the work, there was an issue of both the ships already in line for their attention as well as the cost that such work would be. 

But Arya wasn’t thinking about that now. Instead she was at the table in her cabin looking over the maps they’d found at the first ship chandler shop they’d gone to, and in equal stock at all the others. The detail and scope of them entranced her. That they were of such detail, plentiful, available and relatively affordable puzzled her. 

Not only did they detail the coast they’d already traveled, but it appeared the entire hemisphere including rivers and the continent’s interior along with cities and other kingdoms were mapped. One even detailed the islands they had first reached sailing west from Westeros as well as what she presumed was the coast of Sothoryos. This was more than she had ever hoped in her wildest dreams to find and learn from. Returning with them would be the crown jewel of the expedition. But she also wondered why if the locals had gotten that far, why then hadn’t they been to either Westeros or Essos?

Those thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the ajar door to her cabin. “Enter.” she said as she looked up from her musings. The ship’s maester, Polyt, smiled as he entered the cabin, looking at the pile of maps. 

“Ah Captain, I see you’re looking over your new treasures.” 

Arya grinned and nodded as she offered the maester a seat in one of the two chairs in her cabin.

“What can I do for you Polyt?”

“Well I was thinking of going into the town tomorrow morning to visit the apothecaries to restock my supplies and I was wondering if you would wish to accompany me?” 

She had yet to venture beyond the harbor district and the opportunity to see more of how the people they met in their travels lived was something she never passed up and doing so with the maester was a different experience entirely than joining her crew in a tavern.

"Would directly after the morning meal be satisfactory?" she asked.

The maester nodded "Yes that would be most agreeable. Good evening Captain." 

"To you as well" Arya replied and as the maester left she returned her attention to her "treasure".

\-----

As agreed, the next morning Arya joined Polyt for his trip into the town. Upon hearing that they’d be going into the town, Jarid the cook asked to tag along which they happily agreed to. The three walked off the ship’s gangplank and across the quay into the harbor district heading towards the gate from the harbor into the town. As they went they passed taverns, shops and warehouses all along well cobbled streets, wide enough for at least three wagons to travel abreast without counting the sidewalks. That the place was relatively clean had already impressed her, particularly when the fishing boats mixed in with the cargo ships were factored into the harbor’s activities. Though she had gotten fleeting views of the town’s walls from the harbor and when they’d sailed into the port, Arya hadn’t really gotten a chance to really look them over. Their shopping expedition would be her first good look at the town itself and its people as well as its wall and defenses.

The town was on higher ground from the harbor, its walls tall and well kept. The cobbled approach to the harbor gate of the town wound back and forth so that an attacker couldn’t keep any momentum in an assault and would be longer under the arrows of the defenders. The gatehouse itself was a very strong bastion jutting out from the wall with a double gate, with multiple arrow loops and a drawbridge crossing a dry moat that looked like it ran the length of the wall.

Arya couldn’t help but think that you didn’t put this kind of effort into building such structures unless you regularly needed them. However at the last two ports they’d stopped at there had been no rumblings of even pirates, let alone impending conflict. 

As they entered the gate the sentry on duty outside of the gate looked them over and smiled and nodded them on. His plate cuirass, pauldrons, vambraces, gauntlets, greaves and helmet buffed to a fine shine. The halberd he carried along with the dagger, arming sword and what looked like a small buckler shield hanging from his belt were also from a glance of good quality and cared for; the halberd blade having a mirror shine to it. As they walked through the gate Arya saw three more like the first guard. Two were inspecting a cart while the third looked on. Satisfied they waved the cart and its driver on. 

It was Polyt who, to Arya’s chagrin, stopped and asked one of the guards for directions to the nearest apothecary. The Valyrian dialect spoken along the coast and in the port, though not too far off from Bravossi or Old Valyrian, was far enough off to mark them as foreigners. The guard looked at the three of them, and pointed up the street saying that it was just before the main square and bid them good day.

As they walked on taking in the sights of the town, Arya couldn’t help herself thinking that she was missing something. At first she chalked it up to the place being an active port in a time of peace. Then she noticed someone following openly at a respectful distance; something that hadn’t happened in the harbor district, and she had been looking for it. 

Arya noted that the man was middle aged, fit, well groomed and held himself with the bearing similar to the guards or the City Watch she had seen patrolling the harbor district. His clothes were simple yet well made, though a nondescript grey, and his boots though broken in were well maintained. The dirk hanging from his belt and the purse next to it, along with the belt, were similarly well made, and seemed to have seen regular use and were cared for as well. 

She asked her companions to wait for a moment and she turned around and walked the ten paces to where the man was standing to ask “Is there something I may help you with?” 

The man stopped and smiled, “I was waiting for an appropriate moment to ask you the same Captain Stark.”

Arya raised an eyebrow and replied with the air of a jab, “And you are?”

The man still smiling offered his hand, “Mace Fastfoot. The Harbor Master asked me to offer my assistance to you.” Arya took his offered hand and shook it, feeling the controlled strength in the grasp. “Well then Fastfoot, could you then lead the way to the apothecary?” 

Fastfoot face changed to one of concern, “Is someone ill? Do you need a physician sent to your ship?”

Arya noted the change in the man’s expression and stance, “Oh no, our maester”, indicating Polyt, “just wanted to restock his supplies and see what manner of medicines you had that we don’t.”

Fastfoot instantly relaxed, the easy smile returning to his face. “Well in that case follow me.” And with that he moved forward and motioned them to follow. 

Arya fell in next to Fastfoot as they walked further into the town. As they continued on Fastfoot pointed out shops and places of interest.

Arya noted the way the man moved. He didn’t lumber or shuffle his feet. The man walked with a relaxed purpose. Arya had seen that sort of thing before in both the Red Keep and in Braavos. Sryio Forel had walked that way, as had other water dancers she’d seen in and about Braavos. It was a different walk than that of the Westerosi master of arms and swordsmen she had seen and known; there were elements of each in the other but they were distinct all the same.

This excursion was becoming more interesting than she had expected.


	2. Chapter 2

As they walked through the town, Arya noted the numerous people hustling about tending to their day. The streets were laid out in a regular grid pattern with water fountains, troughs, hitching posts and mounting blocks at regular intervals. Fastfoot continued a running narrative of the town as they went with Polyt and Jarid regularly asking questions. Arya just listened and let her senses take in their surroundings.

The buildings were mostly three or four stories high with plastered exteriors painted in various colors and red tile roofs. The street levels either being small open shops or walls with windows over six feet from the sidewalk with vented shutters and glass. Doors were either large affairs, more like gates, leading into central courtyards or to stairways leading upwards. At the corners and at intervals there were lamps hanging from poles.

As they crossed one intersection of streets she could see a cart with two men picking up road apples with brooms and scoops. Just as they came to the apothecary shop Arya saw the cart they’d seen at the gate entering the main square where an open air produce market was being held. 

Across the square were a group of buildings that looked different than everything else. Just as Arya was about to ask, Fastfoot pointed and noted to their little group that across the square was the town hall and courts for the town and the surrounding region as they reached the shop’s door. Fastfoot opened it, a bell hanging at the top of the shop door jingled as the door opened. 

Upon entering they were met with a large counter with a scale and various sized mortar and pestles. Behind the counter were rows of shelves with all matter of jars and boxes. An older woman came out from behind one of the shelves at the sounds of the door opening. “Ah Fastfoot, what brings you here today?” The woman came around the counter and hugged Fastfoot and then stepped back and looked at the rest of the group.

“Kara, I’d like you to meet Maester Polyt, Cook Jarid and Captain Stark of the Nymeria right now docked in the port.”, Fastfoot turning and waving his arm towards the three. 

Kara nodded towards them, giving Arya a puzzled then measuring look upon Fastfoot’s pronouncement of her rank. “So what can I do for you?” Polyt stepped forward and started describing plants and concoctions he was looking for using their Westerosi and Old Valyrian names and telling her what they were for and did. As the two walked over to the counter Jarid followed close behind with Arya to the side and Fastfoot looking on. 

At one end of the counter was a large book which Kara opened and turned so Polyt could see the pages. Inside were pages of pictures of plants and descriptions of them. Arya noticed that the script and the pictures on the pages were very regular and detailed. She couldn’t help but wonder at the time a scribe or scribes must have taken to do the work. 

As they got into their work filling Polyt’s shopping list, Arya felt the need to step back and take in the rest of the room. Though her knowledge of plants, as well as medicine, was extensive thanks to her time with the House of Black and White, it wasn’t concentrated in the same way as Polyt’s was and it was something she didn’t really want to advertise, particularly not knowing whether Fastfoot had more of an agenda than just doing a favor for the harbor master. She’d either talk with Polyt later or if time permitted come back on a pretext and visit the store again on her own depending on her talk with the maester.

Arya decided that she’d leave the maester and perhaps the cook in the shop and walk the town square for a bit while they worked with the apothecary and she had a plan on how to do it. 

“Jarid, I feel like having a stew tonight, why don’t we look to see what produce the market has to offer?” Jarid looked up from Polyt’s side where he’d been just about glued, “Of course Captain, let us go see what they have.” 

Arya grinned, “Poylt, Jarid and I will be just outside in the market square. If you finish before we get back just wait for us or I’m sure Mr. Fastfoot could guide you back to the ship, if he doesn’t mind of course?” 

Fastfoot looked at Arya and gave for an instant a squint followed by a happy smile, “But of course I can, don’t worry yourself. If you like once he’s done here I can take him over to the tavern across from the court on the square and you can meet us there for lunch.” 

“That sounds like a good plan, we’ll meet you there.” Arya said to Fastfoot, as Polyt nodded his head as he and Kara poured over the book and they both took notes. And with that Arya took Jarid by the arm and lead him out of the shop into the square with Fastfoot watching them leave. Arya had guessed there was some mummery involved with their initial meeting, the why she hadn’t puzzled out yet but she would. One question being whether Fastfoot reported to the harbor master, customs officer or someone else. Part of her stepping out of the shop was to see if there was anyone else watching. She had no real concern for the safety of herself or the crew. If someone wanted them harm they had the whole town to throw at them and they would have done it while they were unloading the ship. 

No this was someone wanting information beyond what the harbor master and the customs officer had which was pretty much an open book regarding their voyage. And though most of the crew knew she had been in the war and her role, they didn’t know a lot of the details beyond the battles that had been fought at King’s Landing and to a lesser degree Winterfell; nothing about the Twins or Braavos. Though from what she’d heard from the crew over the years and been asked by them, their “knowledge” of events varied wildly. 

It was something that she might have tried to suppress but knowing that sailors will be sailors once the ale began to flow she knew someone would say something or another no matter the admonishment. Because of that she’d shaped her answers to any questions in a way to generate a telling of her story if asked that would cause the least stir. Though a woman, particularly a young woman, leading such a voyage in and of itself would cause heads to turn no matter what. And though Polyt knew a lot more, as a maester he wasn’t likely to talk about anything that was “Stark business” since it was understood between the two of them the only difference between his post on the ship and back in Westeros was the ship, unlike a holdfast, manor or castle, moved. The biggest problem between the two of them, and for that matter the whole crew, had been stopping them calling her “My Lady” and “Princess”, finally settling on “Captain” since she was in charge of the expedition. So leaving him with Fastfoot, though a calculated risk, was a very small one if one at all. 

So as Jarid and she started their shopping for “dinner stew” ingredients, Arya began to look for another person or persons paying them too much attention, or even more importantly doing so while not doing so as they walked the stalls. Jarid was in his element sampling and inspecting the various items and before long they had gathered enough items and depleted Arya’s purse, both for “the stew” and for general stores such as dried fruit, nuts and pickled foods that it was necessary to hire a cart to take the foodstuffs back to the ship. Jarid insisted upon accompanying the bounty back to the ship himself not trusting it solely to the cart man for delivery. For that Arya was glad as it would allow her to check to see if either were followed and she knew that Jarid would go straight back to the ship as well as keep an eye on the food. 

Arya was wondering if she was being a little too paranoid when she caught sight of a young teen girl with a hand basket stealing glances at her from a few stalls down and would always stay about the same distance away any time Arya moved. 

So, Arya thought, they have “little birds” west of Westeros too. But they didn’t appear to move in flocks. 

Having surmised that she was being surveilled, Arya decided to check out the town hall and court complex on the other side of the square before she went to the tavern to meet Polyt and Fastfoot. As she left the market stalls and crossed the square Arya noted that her shadow had moved to a stall that gave an unhindered view of the whole square. Arya smiled to herself noting that at least her shadow knew her business.

As she approached the hall and courts a series of thin metal plates mounted on leaves under a roofed canopy in front of the buildings caught her eye. She diverted her path to look at them only to discover that they were covered in a version of Valyrian script. Upon further inspection from what she could make out they appeared to be the region’s law codes. When she met up with Polyt and Fastfoot at the tavern Arya resolved she would bring it up for conversation. 

As she approached the far corner of the square she looked down the street towards the opposite side of the town from the harbor. She could see a gate, and marching through it in orderly formation a large body of armored men carrying what looked like polearms of some kind. Looking up at the position of the sun and knowing Polyt, Arya figured that she would have enough time to take a look at where they were going.

As she went she noted that her shadow was now following her towards the gate. Arya toyed with the idea of losing the girl but decided it wasn’t worth the distraction to her seeing what the soldiers were up to so she continued on. As she got closer gaggles of women of various ages began to join her in heading for the gate from side streets, some with young children in tow and a few that were pregnant and almost all of them carrying what appeared to be full handbaskets or bundles wrapped in cloth. Though most were in the skirts and blouses that appeared to be the common fashion, one or two like her were in breeches and boots. So she began to mingle in with them as they approached the gate.

The gate was constructed just like the one at the harbor side and the guards were just as attentive and equipped. It was when Ayra was exiting through the gate and looked around that the differences became apparent. Starting with the sound of whistles and shouted commands not far from the gate.

Instead of the harbor beyond the wall and dry moat there was a large flat pasture with farm fields further beyond with a paved road from the gate going through it heading out beyond with trees on each side giving shade. 

To her right she saw the troops she had seen exiting the gate, along with a host more of about four hundred formed up in groups of about a hundred each standing in formation with their backs to the town. The polearms they were carrying were in fact two piece pikes that were at least fifteen feet long when assembled. The lot of them at command began to move as one across the pasture, then on command they wheeled to their right and, again in formation, began to quickly move further down the wall away from the road.

The women were all heading over to a line of canopies set up next to the road and its shading trees where there were lines of women already formed, the sound of multiple mixed conversations sounding like a light murmur. 

Under the canopies were benches with men sitting at them facing the lines with a couple of soldiers or city watchmen standing to the side looking on. A woman would walk up to one of the men at the table, he would make a notation in the book in front of him and then hand the woman some coins and the process would repeat. The woman then would join an enlarging gathering of women under the shade of the trees and would start laying blankets out on the grass and in the case of those with very young children place them on them. The whole thing looked like a cross between a festival, a tourney and a calling of the banners.

On the opposite side of the road was a group of horsemen riding at a gallop away from and perpendicular to the road. At first Arya thought they were only drilling like the pikemen, until she saw them almost as one produce bows and start shooting at different colored targets at different distances to their right. After all of them had passed they turned around and shot them at a gallop from their left.

One of the riders detached himself from the rest and rode over to the canopies. The men at the tables stood up and the guards came to attention. The man dismounted and one of the guards walked to him and took his horse’s reins. The rider was medium height and wearing an articulated cuirass, a polished helmet with his visor open, articulated neck covering and a bevor with both arms armored down to steel gauntlets. Below the cuirass and a short armored skirt were grey breeches and riding boots with a curved horseman’s sword, akin to those she’d seen Dornish use, and a large dagger on his belt. The armored rider walked to one of the canopies and began to speak with several of the men who had been behind the tables; all of whom were dressed in what looked like the same manner as Fastfoot. 

Arya walked along the outside of the nearest line to the gate but not straying too close to the canopies. As she looked around Arya noticed her shadow standing in the back of the line watching her. It was about then Arya decided it was getting time for her to return to the town and meet Polyt and Fastfoot at the tavern. 

As she started to leave she noticed the horseman who had ridden over earlier was exiting the canopy and the other men had gone back to their places at the tables. As he walked over to the guard to take the reins of his horse he looked over at the women in the line and exchanged pleasantries with several of them. The horseman glanced in her direction as she turned to walk away. Arya passed her shadow and looked her right in the eye with a smile. The girl looked right into Arya’s eyes in reply and smiled back then started fussing with her handbasket. Arya kept walking towards the gate.

Arya wasn’t ten paces from her shadow when she heard the sound of an approaching horse behind her. As she turned to look the horse came along side of her, its rider the same man as she’d just seen moments earlier. The rider leaned down and with a puzzled look asked “Is everything alright? You’re leaving without seeing the paymaster.” 

Arya stopped, looked up at him and answered, “I was only here outside of the town to see what was going on so I don’t need to see the paymaster.”

The rider looked down at Arya with a pensive look. “You’re not from around here are you?” 

“No, I’m visiting.”

About the only thing she could tell for sure from her vantage point was that the rider was older than Fastfoot and that he was definitely a horseman.

“Oh from where?”

Arya paused for a moment then answered, “Across the sea.”

“The Eastern Sea?” he asked with a little hesitation.

Arya paused again before saying, “Yes.” 

The rider smiled and dismounted, came to attention, executed a quick bow of his head and said, “William Martin, at your service.”

“Arya Stark”.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi All! This is a work in progress that may be edited regularly, though hopefully not in a way that takes away from the reader's experience. 
> 
> I've had this idea bouncing around in my head for a while.
> 
> Please feel free to drop a comment. I'm dipping my toe into the fiction writing pond here so as the lifeguards say, never dive in head first into unfamiliar waters.


End file.
